


Awakening

by infernalandmortal, Km2c



Category: Dark Artifices Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Other, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-14 21:58:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4581612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infernalandmortal/pseuds/infernalandmortal, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Km2c/pseuds/Km2c
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This story was co-written with a dear friend of mine: infernalandmortal from tumblr!</p>
<p>WARNING: SPOILERS</p>
<p>Plot: Mark's first impresions when he wakes up after collapsing in the Lady Midnight Chapter Sample</p>
<p>Acknowledgements: Brenda honey, this is for you! Happy Birthday!</p>
<p>P.S.: Amanda has another gift for you! Just go here:<br/>http://infernalandmortal.tumblr.com/private/126770829867/tumblr_nt54mkgOpg1s9xni6?soc_src=mail&soc_trk=ma</p>
            </blockquote>





	Awakening

**Author's Note:**

  * For [emmacordeliacarstairs](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=emmacordeliacarstairs).



Waking up was a slow process; his head still felt like someone had hit it with a sledge hammer. The pain was steady in its presence though, keeping him from going back to sleep. He could tell the room behind his closed eyelids was bathed in sunlight. The light made him uncomfortable. He blinked several times until his eyes had adjusted to the brutal brightness… and discovered another pair of verdigris eyes less than 5 inches from his face.

Mark started, but otherwise didn’t react. His instincts told him to jump up, to get as much space between himself and the intruder as possible. His battered body had other ideas. Moving only made the pain worse. His brain felt jumbled, wrong. Besides, it was only a child. Mark took in the kid’s eyes looking at him with unconcealed curiosity and dark locks the color of bitter chocolate surrounding his small face. Something stirred in the back of his mind. He knew this boy.

It seemed to take forever until his brain came up with a name. Jules. His little brother. A tired smile crossed Mark’s face and the kid beamed up at him in response.

“He’s awake!” The pipsqueak screeched and Mark flinched at the volume.

His father came into his line of sight, perching at the edge of his bed. He looked exhausted, but happy. “How are you feeling?”

He had missed him so much. He remembered his dad sitting with him like this when he was sick, the soft deep tune of his voice as he read to him. One large hand came to rest on his forehead. “You’re running a fever.” Andrew didn’t sound happy.

Next to him, Jules jumped up and down on the bed. “I can get you your stele.”

“Here, take mine.”

Mark turned at the sound of the new voice and saw a young woman leaning in the doorway. He took in her dark hair and Blackthorn eyes and frowned. Who was she? 

His headache got worse and he let out a pained moan as a fresh wave of agony rolled over him. 

“Mark!” His father took hold of his arm, drawing an iratze onto his skin. The mark hurt, but his head felt instantly clearer.  
“Thanks, dad.” He muttered as the pain started to ebb away.

His father looked at him stunned.

Jules flicked his little head back and forth between the two of them, forehead scrunching up in confusion. “Julian, why is Mark calling you ‘dad’?”

Julian?!

The young man next to him shrugged helplessly. “I think he has a concussion.”

Bewildered, Mark shook his head, taking a closer look. The person in front of him looked indeed too young to be his father. The resemblance was eerie though! The child tugged on his sleeve to get his attention. “I’m Tavvy,” he announced proudly. “Jules said I was a baby when you last saw me but I’m really big now!”

Mark felt the color drain from his face. This was Octavian? How long…

His brain finally kick-started and his eyes traveled back to the actual Julian. The Julian that should be 12 years old! He scrambled backwards, his back colliding with the headboard. This couldn’t be true. Raziel please let this be a bad dream!

“Mark,” grown-up Julian reached for him, strong hands gripping his shoulders, keeping him still. “Mark, it’s alright. Everything’s fine now. You are safe. They aren’t going to hurt you again. I won’t let them.”

God, that voice, those words, … he sounded so much like Dad! His heart cramped painfully, loss and grief welling up inside him like a fountain. He hadn’t hurt like this since…. since he first came to Faerie. Since he had been human. Why had he wanted to come back? A strangled sound tore its way between his quivering lips. He had to get out of here, away from these feelings, these human emotions that could weaken you more than any physical injury. His brother wouldn’t let go though; instead, he pulled him even closer.

When Mark curled instinctively into a ball, Julian shifted him in his arms, titling him so he ended up with his upper body in Julian’s lap, head cradled in the crook of his arm. Mark clenched his eyes shut, no longer able to bear the look of concern and pity in those verdigris eyes. 

Julian made soothing noises, mumbling aimless words in his ear while his hand stroked through his unruly curls. Against his will, Mark felt himself relax. His eyes snapped open when he felt a small hand in his. Tavvy had crawled over and curled up next to him. He had grown suspiciously quiet, watching him with pensive eyes. Another memory of Julian at that age crossed his mind. He had been sick, running a fever and little Jules had looked at him the same way, stretched out next to him, while Helen had placed a cool washcloth on his forehead and read to them. Helen… “Where’s Helen?”

He felt Julian’s sharp intake of breath against his spine and feared the worst.

“Helen is at Wrangel Island, helping the people there to keep up the wards.” Tavvy supplied helpfully. 

Mark looked to Julian for confirmation and his shoulders sagged in relief when he saw Julian nod. Still, something about his expression was off. In that moment Julian looked as impassive as Ty when he…. “Ty? Livvy?” Where were the twins?

This time Julian grinned. “You’ve been unconscious for quite some time. I had to practically throw them out an hour ago. Dru as well. But they need to eat. They will be back at your side soon enough, never you fear. Ty has been watching you like a hawk since we got you back.”

Go figure. Of course Ty would keep a watchful eye on him. The boy was not a big fan of showing affection, or even voicing it. Ty expressed his feelings in a different way. Tiberius showed affection by paying attention to that person’s actions. Mark remembered Helen telling him as much. They had been at the beach, and Ty did not want to go swimming, so Julian had taken it upon himself to chatter about the waves and the various sea creatures living under the sea and Ty had been watching Julian more than the things his brother pointed out to him. How old had he been then? Three? His behavior had not changed by the time he was ten. Even occupied with his own things, Ty had a habit of sneaking looks at his siblings when they didn’t notice, carefully keeping track of where everyone was and what they were doing.

Mark turned his head towards the girl in the doorway. “Livia?” He asked tentatively, trying to reconcile the ten-year-old he remembered with the young woman who stood before him.

Her solemn features relaxed in relief; she took a half-step forward and sat on the end of the bed. “Hello, Mark.” Her voice was guarded, her tone standoffish. Mark scanned her body, the runes and scars that marred her skin. She was a warrior now, no longer the little girl who clung to her twin brother and listened solemnly to Mark’s instructions on how to understand Ty’s behavior. It saddened Mark to see that innocence gone.

“Livia?” A dark head poked in around the door. “Cristina wants- oh.” Tiberius locked eyes with his older brother for a long moment before looking away. A lump rose up in Mark’s throat at the sight of him, all long limbs and messy hair and a black dress shirt untucked over a pair of skinny grey jeans. He was exactly the same and Mark took comfort in that small fact.  


Tiberius crossed the threshold and stood next to his twin, running the back of his hand over hers briefly before staring at Mark intently. “You’re awake.” He stated the obvious. “The others were worried about you.”

Beside Mark, Tavvy rolled his eyes. “Ty was worried, too,” he informed his long-lost eldest brother. “He just doesn’t wanna say it.”

Mark opened his mouth to reply but the sounds of slamming doors and loud voices distracted him. Two voices - one male and one female - caused the twins to turn toward the door. Mark didn’t miss the expression on Julian’s face: something like joy and completeness.

A tall blonde materialized, followed by a redheaded young man, both clad in gear and with various weapons strapped to their backs and belts. “You’re awake,” the blonde said to Mark, flashing a smile that wasn’t entirely sincere. “Jules was starting to get crazy; he didn’t think you’d ever wake up.” She moved to Julian’s side and Mark knew then that this had to be Emma Carstairs. Only she could elicit such a response out of his little brother. In the back of his mind, he wondered if they were lovers yet. He had always predicted that they would be when they were older and his father agreed. Parabatai or lovers, that’s what Andrew said.

Another lump filled Mark’s throat. He’d never talk to Andrew again, never even get to say goodbye. The faint memories of the last time he saw his father surfaced, causing his stomach to roll. No. He wouldn’t let himself remember; couldn’t let himself feel. Not yet.

“I’m starving,” Emma said, resting a hand on Julian’s shoulder. “Let’s go eat and let Mark rest, okay?” She picked Tavvy up and beckoned to the twins to follow her out the door. Julian hesitated, his eyes searching Mark’s face. Self-loathing twisted Mark’s heart. He didn’t deserve his brother looking at him this way; he didn’t deserve his brother looking at him at all.

“Go,” Mark waved Julian off. “I’ll be alright.” Julian gave a dubious sigh but followed Emma and the kids out the door. Tiberius was the last to go, casting one long look back at his brother before exiting. Mark sighed and closed his eyes, leaning back against the pillow and attempting to ignore the pain that was spreading through his head and body once again.

He must have dozed off; he woke to the unfamiliar-yet-familiar sting of a stele against his forearm. A young girl - maybe thirteen or fourteen - stood over him, her brow furrowed as the iratze unfurled from her stele. When she noticed he was awake, she smiled softly, finished the rune, and placed the stele on the bedside table. “You can use it if you want,” she told him, her voice barely a whisper. “I don’t really need it.”

“Drusilla?” Mark asked, his voice croaking embarrassingly. She nodded. “You- you’re so old.”

“We all are,” Dru said solemnly. “A lot’s changed. You’ve been gone five years, Mark.”

“I know.” That familiar heart-clench was back.

“I could tell you,” Dru said tentatively. “About what’s changed, I mean.”

“Are you still our little wordsmith?” Mark asked, recalling their mother’s affectionate name for her youngest daughter. Dru nodded and Mark sat up on his elbows. “Well then, please tell me. I want to know.”

Dru’s voice was soothing in a way Mark didn’t imagine; she formed her words like Eleanor did when she read Mark to sleep as a child. He found himself drifting off again to stories of his little brothers and sisters, now grown up and with a lot more left to lose.

When he woke up, Julian was dozing in a chair by the window, the twins were conversing quietly in the door, Drusilla was scribbling in a notebook, and Tavvy was sitting on the floor against Emma’s leg. Emma noticed Mark’s open eyes and gave him a soft smile as he took in his family. “Welcome home, Mark.”

He could get used to waking up like this.


End file.
